


count the seconds

by radvsew



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, ocs to fill gaps
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-12-06 19:32:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18224486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radvsew/pseuds/radvsew
Summary: My name is Dexter Grif, I live in the worst fucking desert on the planet, my sister is a pain in the ass, my friends are all jerks, and this is the story of how I survived my senior year. Yeah, yeah, I know. It sounds cheesy and boring and especially dumb. But I promise, it’s not as bad as it seems.





	count the seconds

**Author's Note:**

> hey y'all make sure you have work skins on because i use a text msging skin and it doesnt rly make sense otherwise :)

The sun is bright. Really fucking bright. It’s early September and Summer is trying it’s hardest to hold on to the weather that they’ve had for months. Which, in the desert, is really fucking warm and really fucking bright. Grif is waiting in the drop off line in their secluded little high school behind rich kids’ parents in their big trucks and SUV’s and desperately waiting for someone to let him turn into the parking lot.

See, the thing about small high schools is small parking lots. Even if someone who _wasn’t_ a complete asshole would let him turn, there’s only so many cars that can make the circuit at a time. Which, most of the time, wouldn’t be an issue. But today is not most of the time. Today in his passenger seat he has been blessed with the opportunity of escorting his lovely sister to her first day of high school.

The age gap had been near perfect to find the perfect stereotypical brother-sister dynamic. And as they’re still waiting in the relentless traffic in his black Honda Civic, he can’t help but almost feel something pulling on his heartstrings. _Fucking finally!_ He thinks as he watches the car in the opposing lane pull to a complete stop and give him a small wave to the direction of the parking lot.

Grif waves back out of gratitude and turns into the parking lot. He’s almost on autopilot as he goes to turn in the direction that will take him behind the school where he parks, but instead opts to stay in the drop off lane.  The cars filter through and he watches kids go into the school. The car inches forward and eventually aligns with the propped open double doors in the front of the school.

He reaches forward and turns down the music with the dial. His sister looks up from her phone at him because of the change in environment. “Alright you gotta go” he says and uses his hand closest to the door to unlock them.

She hovers her hands over the door handle, but stays in the car a bit longer. Her head is facing the door so Gif can’t see her expression, but he can tell she’s worried. He reaches over and ruffles her hair then pulls her into a side hug. He can feel her body relax and she lets out a sigh.

Grif lets go of her and shifts back into his seat. “You’re gonna be fine. Now go get a good locker.” She opens the door and steps out into the parking lot, fixes her shirt, and then reaches back into the car for her bookbag. After collecting it she swings it over her shoulder and gives him a small wave and a smile.

After the door is closed, he rolls down the window on the passenger side. “Make sure it’s upstairs!” he yells after her and she walks away. “Not downstairs, Kai! That’s where all the assholes are!”

She turns over her shoulder and licks her tongue out at him and he can hear a small laugh escape her. He flicks the switch to put the window back up and smiles to himself while focusing himself on the bustling parking lot in front of him.

He pulls forward and starts towards the back of the school where he parks. The back of the school is unpaved and his car lurches when it switches from the asphalt to the gravelly dirt. The car begins to slow as he approaches his all-to-familiar spot right by the back entrance, the place where he’s been parking since the day he got his fulls. And sitting in his spot is a red sports car. _What the fuck?_

There’s a lanky guy sitting in the driver’s seat scrolling through something on his phone so Grif lays on the horn. The boy looks up at him and for some fucking reason can’t see an issue, so he goes back to his phone. _Who is this fucking dense?_

Grif has to admit, it’s a beautiful car. It looks like a BMW and the exterior has a deep red lustre. He can feel the steering wheel cover under his hands, a reminder that he doesn’t have that nice of a goddamn car, and he lays on the horn again.

As he focuses on the twat who is STILL SITTING BEHIND THE FUCKING WHEEL wishing that he has some kind of psychic powers to make him get up and move his goddamn car, the mass of people start walking into the school. Grif glances at the clock and realizes that homeroom is starting in mere minutes.

It would be so easy to just park somewhere else. To just get here earlier tomorrow and get his spot again, but as the douchebag of the year gets out of his car, he pulls in front of the sports car and puts the car in park. It’s on principle now. _If I don’t get the courtesy of being spoken to, you don’t get the courtesy of being able to leave._

Grif turns off his car and removes the keys, passing them to his other hand. He uses his free hand to reach behind the passenger seat and grabs his backpack, yanking it into his lap. His left hand rests on the door handle, feeling a small amount of remorse for what he was about to do.

 _Fuck it_ he thinks, and pushes the door open. He steps out of the car and his feet crunch on the gravel. He walks to the back door and extends his hand, which still holds his car keys, towards it. Grif places the top of his hand against the thumb piece and pulls. Nothing.

He adjusts his grip, moving his obnoxious keychain to his opposite hand, pushing down the thumb piece while he pulls on the handle. Still nothing. _They locked the fucking doors._ The bell JUST rang, how are the doors locked already. He just watches probably thirty students walk in a few seconds ago. Yet here he is, tugging on the door handle with every ounce of effort in his being.

Grif pivots and starts to swiftly walk around the school in order to be let in the front doors. The grass is a yellowy-brown green from the hot desert summer they had been forced to endure for the past few months. He makes his way to the main doors, a full set of four instead of the two swinging doors out back, and he can’t see anyone in the lobby through the glass panes.

He tries the handle of the door because _for chrissakes these can’t be locked too_ and gets nothing. No movement, not even a click of a latch to show him that his efforts mean something. He knows damn well his homeroom teacher isn’t going to be pleased. This is the third (and final) time that he’s been late to the first day orientation, and he doesn’t want to see his teacher’s reaction.

If he buzzes the office to let him in, he has to go get a late slip. Which means he needs to call his mother to have her explain the absence, and Grif really doesn’t think his mother would be too pleased to find out that he was late. His other option is to text Tucker and get him to let him in after homeroom, which by a glance at his phone, is in five minutes.

Plan B it is.

 

tucker the fucker  
locked out lol  
yeah i could tell u werent here  
can u just grab my schedule and let me in after homeroom pls   
gimme a ride home and ill consider it  
fucking fine. im out back. 

 

He groans and shoves his phone back into his pocket. _Shit. I’m a dumbass. I told Tucker I was out behind the school._ So, Grif goes back to behind the school, already walking far too much for a Monday morning. It takes maybe two minutes to walk, but the warm sun is beating down on makes it seem like everything is in slow motion.

The sun is bouncing off the cars in such a way that its like the parking lot is drenched in rising heat lines. There are cars rushing by on the now decongested road in front of the school, probably people late to work, or someone just passing by their school on the way to the big city. No one ever wants to stay in the gulch for too long.

Grif turns the corner and starts to walk towards the back door. The sidewalk here is more ragged and there are cigarette butts littering the ground already. He walks up to the door and leans against the sidewall, waiting for Tucker to meet him. The wall is still cold from the night before, which permeates through Grif’s light t-shirt. It’s a welcome feeling.

He stands there for a while, just enjoying the feeling of the cool stone on his back. He hears a muffled bell and then people start filtering through the highway. The door is situated on a landing between the upper and lower floors, so he waits for Tucker to come down the stairs. Their homeroom is a corner classroom, but he knows that someone had definitely stopped Tucker to talk about something or other.

Finally, after the stairwell consists only of stragglers and lost freshman, Tucker appears bounding down the stairs. He stops at the glass doors and pushes them open with his hip, handing Grif his schedule as Grif pushes past him.

“We have physics first. Ready for good ole Sarge?” Tucker says as he nudges Grif with his shoulder.

Grif hikes his backpack up further on his shoulder. “Remind me again why we took physics?”

Tucker laughs, looking down at his phone as he walks. “Fuck if I know.”


End file.
